


l'appel du vide

by imnotcreativeenough



Category: Winx Club
Genre: 4kids, F/M, If Winx Club was a YA novel, Original Series, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-10-13 15:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotcreativeenough/pseuds/imnotcreativeenough
Summary: The Winx Club, rewritten for more mature audiences, since most of the fandom from the original show is in their mid twenties by now. I'm changing things liberally here and there to make the story more interesting for adults and less kitschy. Currently in its beta stages. Formally Winx Club, Rewritten





	1. Metamorphosis

Bloom hated tourists.

Without fail, any time a tourist walked through the front door of Crosby’s, they got sat in her section. And without fail, every single  _ damn  _ time, they walked away without tipping. She couldn’t exactly blame the tourists; they weren’t from the United States, they didn’t understand tipping culture. But she  _ could  _ blame Tilly for seating every obvious tourist in her section, even when they should go to another waitress. After five hours of work, she only made $17.50. Three out of her six tables didn’t tip. She didn’t even make enough today to warrant calling a taxi home, so she was left walking home in the rain, in her hideous gingham shirt and suspenders. At least this job let her wear jeans.

She couldn’t understand why anyone would even want to visit Chicago in the first place. Sure it was the Windy City, but there was  _ nothing  _ here, except for tall buildings filled with people who didn’t want to be here either. The parking is expensive, the food is expensive, the apartments were expensive, she was just waiting for a day for someone to come on the news and say they have a new tax on breathing air. When Bloom moved to Chicago after high school, she couldn’t even afford to bring her car; it was an extra $100 on her rent just for a damn parking spot. Even if she did have her car, the traffic is so bad she wouldn’t want to drive it anyway.

Four months she’d lived in the city, and she hadn’t had a single break. She auditioned for every ballet company in the city, applied at every dance school to teach. Nothing. And with the hours she had to work at Crosby’s just to make rent, she hadn’t been to a single class in a month. Day by day she could feel her muscles atrophying, and her flexibility was worse than it had been in years

She shivered and clutched her arms closer to her body. It was hot and sunny this morning, but the sun had gone down hours ago, taking all the heat with it. The drizzle that had started during her shift didn’t help. Usually she didn’t mind the rain, but her shirt was thin and she forgot her jacket when she left in a rush that morning. Trying to ignore the drizzle, she focused on the sickly green patterns a neon sign was making in a puddle at the end of the alley. She could hear the rowdy customers at a bar with its back door open; this late at night, they were either drunk or well on their way. 

She jumped as two girls ran past her. Barefoot and running down an alley with their silver strappy heels in their hands. Classy. 

Briefly, Bloom considered that taking this route back to her apartment might not have been the best idea, and told herself that in the future, if she walked home this late, she’d use the sidewalks. At least she lived in a safer area of the city; there were some real slums in Chicago, but she thought her apartment felt safe. It wasn’t too far from work; only four blocks, and if she cut through the alleys, it barely took ten minutes. That being said, she was growing more and more disturbed with the shadows and the fire escapes. Sidewalks had bright lights illuminating the streets...now she was walking in the dark with impenetrable walls of brick on either side. Only way out was forward towards the light at the end of the alley.

She picked up her pace, sliding the pepper spray from her keychain into her palm with her finger on the depressor. Her feet ached from hours of work.

The light at the end of the alley was suddenly blocked by a large man. No, too large to be a person. A car? Was that a car? 

It started barreling towards her. It roared. What the hell  _ was  _ it?

Screaming, she turned and ran down the opposite end of the alley. She put her arm up high and left a trail of pepper spray behind her, hoping that it would dissipate with the rain and get in that  _ thing’s  _ eyes. 

“Help! Help me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. These were apartments above her...couldn’t anyone hear her? Is this what Kitty Genovese felt like?

It was gaining on her. Why was it chasing her? There was no way this thing was a person. Did something escape the zoo?

She felt an iron grip around the arm holding her pepper spray. Her screams echoed around the alley but no one opened a window, no one turned on a light. The pepper spray rattled on the ground, rolled down the aggregate concrete towards the storm drain. Was she going to die?

Her fists met its skin. It felt like old, dry leather, and had no give to it. She must have been drugged. What had she drank?

Her arm burned like fire, she was bleeding. It cut her.

Her whole body filled with heat. Her vision grew tunneled. The tips of her fingers tingled, and suddenly the entire alley was filled with bold light. The creature flew back away from her, knocking her to the ground in the process. She cried out as she landed wrong on her ankle. The light was gone as quick as it came, as did the wind. The creature was getting up. It walked towards her. She was paralyzed in pain and fear, rooted to the ground. She closed her eyes, crossed her arms in front of her face, and waited for the inevitable.

It didn’t come.

She opened her eyes when she *heard something large hitting the ground, feeling the impact from where she sat. A group of four men stood over the creature, one with a strange, blue gun in his hand, another with two sets of giant rings that resembled handcuffs. She stared at the weapon, shifting her eyes when she heard him speak.

“Just a mild tranquilizer. He’ll only be out long enough to get him on the ship.”

“Sky,” the blond haired one putting shackles over the creature looked over at his partner, speaking in a warning tone. “What happened to what Saladine said?”

“They said no Earth witnesses. Clearly, she’s not from Earth.”

Bloom looked between the group of men. They wore the same clothes, but didn’t look like soldiers. They really didn’t look much older than her; college aged at most. Should she correct him and say she was, indeed, from Earth? Where else would she be from? She must have been drugged. She felt so tired. 

The brunette one--Sky--crouched down before her. He pulled a kit from his belt, and asked if he could see her arm. She stared, apprehensively. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “It’s a first aid kit. We need to clean your arm before it gets infected, troll venom can be poisonous.” 

“Did you just say troll?” she asked, finally speaking. Her voice didn’t sound like her own, it seemed far away and foreign.

Sky rifled through his kit before looking over his shoulder. “Hey Timmy, do you have any antivenom? I think I forgot to restock after last time.”

The one with the glasses walked over to them, leaving the other two to wrap up the...troll? “I told you to double check your medpack. It should always be stocked before a mission,” he chided. She could almost laugh as Sky turned back to roll his eyes at her.

“You have it or what?”

“Obviously, I stocked my medpack,” he handed a tiny glass bottle with a stopper down to his friend, before looking over at Bloom. “You don’t know what trolls are?” 

“Well yeah, I’ve heard of trolls, are you telling me that’s what that  _ thing _ is?” she pointed at the creature the blond had finished tying up. 

“You  _ are  _ from Earth, aren’t you?” the black haired one spoke up with surprising hostility. He and the blond were fiddling with rolling the creature onto a blue stretcher that she didn’t remember them having. 

“Uh, yeah, aren’t you?” she countered. 

“Sky,” Black Hair growled. “We  _ need  _ to speak with Saladine. She’s a witness.”

“How many Earthlings do you know that can summon up an energy field? She knocked the thing clear off his feet; something’s going on here.”

“All the more reason to call Saladine and figure this out,” Timmy reasoned.

“What’s your name?” Sky asked, grabbing her wrist again. He pulled out the dropper out of the bottle, aiming it over her cut.

“Bloom,” she winced as the liquid made contact.

“Sorry, should’ve warned you...it stings a little.”

Timmy crouched down beside Sky. “The antivenom will keep you from getting sick, but you should still take a shower at home and make sure you rinse it well. Where is home?”

Now she  _ knew  _ she heard warning bells. Did  _ these  _ guys drug her? Why did they want to know where she lived? “Not far,” she said vaguely.

“Can one of us walk you home?”

“No,” she said immediately. “I’m fine.” 

She stood up on her own, ignoring the burning pain in her ankle. 

“We gotta get this guy back to the school. Time to say goodbye,” Black Hair quipped. He didn’t look at Bloom, speaking only to his partners. “What should we do with her?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, patience snapping and matching his hostility.

Sky gave her an apologetic look. “It’s not an emergency, so we shouldn’t wake up Saladine.”

“ _ Not  _ an emergency? You gave us away to an Earthling!”

“It can  _ wait.  _ And there’s clearly more going on here. Bloom,” he turned to her, “would it be okay if one of us met you here tomorrow to talk? About what happened tonight?”

She stared at each of them in turn. The black haired one glared daggers at her. His blond partner seemed more preoccupied with strapping the troll down to the board than really looking over at her. Timmy and Sky seemed friendly, at least. She  _ did  _ want to hear more about what happened here...if she met them in the day time, how dangerous could it be? 

“Okay. I can meet you back here tomorrow. But on that sidewalk,” she pointed towards the streetlight, “not in the alley.”

“Then we’ll meet you outside the alley tomorrow, one o’clock. Does that sound okay?” 

“ _ Sky,”  _ hissed Black Hair. “Let it  _ go.” _

He seemed to ignore his partner, so Bloom did the same.  _ I can always not show tomorrow,  _ she reasoned with herself. “Okay. One o’clock. Tomorrow.”


	2. A World Altered

When she awoke, shivering under the blankets yet covered in sweat, she was sure she’d been dreaming.

Trolls aren’t real.

Why’d they ask if she was from Earth?

Usually, she only had these dreams when she took sleeping pills. But she hadn’t taken them in months. It  _ had  _ to have been a dream, but it was so vivid, so ungodly real that she ripped the covers to stare at her arm...and sure enough, there was a large tear along her skin that she definitely didn’t get from Crosby’s.

Was she drugged? Had she been attacked? Should she get a rape kid? What if she’d been given LSD...maybe she’d been hallucinating. She must have been. Why did those boys help her? Did she imagine that too? Bloom had never done drugs before...she wouldn’t know the feeling if she’d been on them. How could she be sure? 

She went around in circles for hours, lying in bed and watching the clock draw closer to 1:00 pm. 

She shouldn’t go. She imagined the whole thing. Drug induced hallucinations.

But if she  _ did  _ go, and they weren’t there, she would have more confirmation she’d been hallucinating.

If she went and they  _ were  _ there...she might get some answers. 

It was a bright day out, plenty of witnesses. She was probably safe. Though, she thought that last night, and now she was staring at a deep lash through her arm. 

The meeting place that they’d decided on was on the walk to the hospital. If she got out of bed, took a shower, made herself some breakfast, and left...she’d probably be outside by 1:00 pm.

_ You’re going to the hospital anyway… _

Her arm burned when she blasted it with the shower head. Her hair felt like a  _ rats  _ nest, significantly worse than normal. Her legs were still streaked with dirt from the ground. Watching dried blood and dirt flow into the drain made her feel more rooted to the ground, more real, less  _ crazy... _ she could just stay in the shower and not leave. 

Her feet found their way out the door nonetheless. If nothing else, she needed to go to the hospital. Her ankle was twitching with each step, and she should probably have it looked at.

She paused outside the alley to browse the window of a skateboard shop. She didn’t skate. But on this morning, at 12:55, she found herself strangely fascinated. 

She heard Sky call her name at 12:58. 

Seeing Sky and his blond friend walk towards her in jeans and normal shirts made her realize how strange their all black attire was the night before. There were no duty belts. There were no weapons. They looked, by all counts, normal college aged guys. If anyone had been watching them, it would seem like a few friends from a nearby college were catching up on a sunny Monday morning in between classes. 

“Hey,” she called out uncertainly, tucking her hair behind her ears. It had taken her forever to comb her curls out.

“Hello,” the blond one smiled. 

“Bloom, this guy here is Brandon. I don’t think you two got to be introduced last night,” Sky said cordially. 

So the blond was named Brandon. He stuck out his hand, still smiling, and Bloom returned the strangely formal gesture. Who shakes hands?

“You must have a lot of questions from last night,” Brandon said. 

She nodded slowly, not saying anything. She wasn’t sure what to say.

“Is there a good place for us to talk? Someplace we can sit down?”

She pondered Brandon’s question for a minute...she was a little self conscious discussing the magical troll that attacked her last night in broad daylight, particularly if they were about to tell her they were police cadets, the troll was a wannabe rapist, and she was on bath salts. So, she led the boys down the block to the off-chain coffee house she knew was geared towards people taking lunch meetings and had a quiet atmosphere. Some coffee would do her good, anyway; she was already getting a headache. 

With Sky waiting for their drinks, Bloom and Brandon settled in a booth in the back, a small plate of macarons between them that he’d insisted on purchasing. He plucked one off the plate, studying it quizzically, pulling it apart and putting it back together. Bloom couldn’t help but smile at the scientific approach he’d taken to studying the sandwich cookie. 

“Have you never had a macaron before?”

“I thought the lady said it was called a macaroon?” he responded, dragging out the  _ oo  _ sound at the end.

“Nope. Lots of people call these macaroons,” she mimicked his pronunciation, “but that’s the coconut biscuit that guy’s eating. These are macarons.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that.”

“Four years of high school French and that’s all I know.”

He laughed politely, just as Sky set their coffee down and sat down next to Brandon. She stared at them both as she sipped her beverage that was still too hot, waiting for one of them to speak. It seemed as though they had the same idea, leaving the table in awkward silence.

“So...what exactly happened last night?” she asked, not wanting to give away her wild recollection of events.

“What do you remember?”

“Not much,” she lied, hoping they’d take the bait. She wasn’t willing to offer up any more information than she had to, but at the same time, she wanted answers. “How did I cut my arm?”

“We didn’t see, you were bleeding when we found you. It looked like the troll had dragged a nail across your skin; they can get pretty sharp,” Sky dropped the word troll  _ far  _ too casually for her liking.

“So it was a troll,” she said, half to herself.

“Our friends didn’t want us to come back here, they didn’t want us to talk to you,” Brandon said. “Technically, our orders were to avoid all sightings, and call our commander with any deviation. We should have reported you, and he would have cleared your memory.”

“So why didn’t you?” she asked, slowly growing used to the fact that she had no idea what was going on.

“You’re a magical being.”

Hazelnut latte spluttered onto her chin as she involuntarily laughed at the statement. “Funny,” she said sarcastically.

“You conjured up an energy field that knocked a full grown troll right off his feet. That’s no easy feat. How do you think you managed that?”

“I’m on drugs.”

“You’re not on drugs.”

_ Pretty sure I’m on drugs.  _

“Then you’re on drugs.”

“No one is on drugs Bloom,” Sky smiled politely, but she could see she was wearing down his patience. 

“There’s no such thing as magic.”

“Explain last night.”

“Drugs.”

“We should have brought Stella,” Brandon rubbed his face, exasperated.

The three returned to a heavy, uncomfortable silence. 

“Whose Stella?” she finally asked.

The two glanced at each other, before Sky started to speak. “Stella is a friend of ours. She can do what you did last night. She’s also a lot better at this stuff than we are.”

“What exactly  _ did  _ I do last night?” If they wanted to tell her absurd stories, she might as well see what they come up with.

It was Brandon who spoke this time. “We saw the troll grab you when we entered the alley. You produced an energy field to push him off of you; it lit up the whole alley. That’s when we knew you weren’t an Earthling. Where we’re from, lots of people can produce magic like you. On Earth, they can’t.”

“Can you do magic tricks?” 

“They’re not  _ magic tricks _ , and no, neither of us have powers. They’re rare in guys. Much more common in girls.”

They went back and forth like this while they finished their coffees. For every ludacris question she managed to ask, every detail of their story seemed inherently logical. From the military academy that had sent them to find the runaway troll as their first solo mission, to the magical fairies who studied spells and learned how to fly, like their friend Stella. She even nodded her head along when they suggested that she was a fairy, even if it was further confirmation that at least one person at this table had their daily dose of Vitamin K that morning. 

They seemed to realize her apprehension towards them, and asked if they could meet again the following day, saying they’d bring Stella and that she could show Bloom that they were being honest. They had to meet later in the day to make it work--she had the breakfast shift--but she agreed nonetheless. Something about the two seemed to draw her in; a small part of her wanted to believe them, an even smaller part possibly  _ did.  _ And if they were offering her proof...who was she to turn it down? She had completely lost her sanity with the whole situation, what else could she possibly lose.

They agreed to meet at a park this time around. She hadn’t bothered changing out of her work shirt before she waited, only removing the suspenders to avoid unnecessary humiliation. She dodged Tilly’s questions about her arm throughout the shift, telling customers that she’d been in a car accident and asking them about their meal to distract them from too many questions. The gash was raised, swollen, and itched like crazy. Likely infected. Maybe she should ask if their “medpack” had an antibiotic for it. Had Sky remembered to stock his medpack this time? She was half tempted to ask.

This time around, she found them; the boys were sitting on a bench. Bloom had never referred to another girl as a  _ bombshell  _ before, but that’s the only way she could describe the blonde that sat in between them. Long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, tiny waist, she was intimidatingly and annoyingly beautiful. 

While Bloom questioned how on Earth a single person became that attractive and how unfair it was to her 5’2’’ gingerness, the girl jumped out of her seat and raced over towards her, the boys trailing behind. “Bloom! It’s so nice to meet you!” 

“Hi!” she said, trying--and failing--to match her enthusiasm. “You’re Stella, right?”

“Princess Stella of Solaria,” she said proudly. 

_ And I’m Princess Bloom, of Hyde Park.  _ “Nice to meet you.”

If Stella picked up on her derision, she said nothing. Instead she suggested they find someplace private, so she could show Bloom what a fairy can do. She put up some protest at going anywhere alone with the trio, but eventually conceded, telling herself that they were still in the general open. While they walked towards the hiking trails Stella was chatty; neither of the boys could get a word in edgewise as she went on about Alfea, the college she was starting in a week. She described classes on potion, on flying, and how she hated the royal etiquette and decorum but she did enjoy the balls they had with Red Fountain.

_ I am in a bad Harry Potter fanfiction. _

The three bypassed the actual trail and instead headed into the woods themselves. Bloom had ventured this way before while walking her neighbors dog, something she routinely did for extra money. If they walked far enough through the woods, the trees opened up into a clearing and they had enough space to move around. Hopefully there weren’t any teenagers getting drunk there today, as there often was.

Thankfully the clearing was empty, giving them plenty of privacy. “Alrighty,” Stella said cheerfully. “You’re having some trouble buying all this magic business?”

She nodded, not even trying to match the girl’s enthusiasm. 

“Well, then, let me show you!” 

Without any more fanfare, Stella waved both of her hands together, as though creating a sphere, then pulled her fingertips apart, and before her eyes Bloom saw an orb of bright light appear between her hands. Staring at it felt like staring at a dim light bulb...the longer she looked, the darker anything surrounding the orb became. Stella’s dress and the tops of her tan legs were illuminated ever so slightly. Small shadows were cast behind her feet, and behind Bloom, who stood in front of her. If she looked hard enough, she almost thought she could see glittering, but maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. What was that her mother always said about staring at the sun?

All of the sudden, Stella parted her hands and the light dissipated into the air without a trace. 

No one spoke for a long while. The three were silent, allowing her to better process the information presented to her...she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried, wrap her mind around what she’d just seen. Magic wasn’t real? This was a trick, some crazy trick they were paying on her. That could have been a lightbulb Stella slid into her pockets when she waved her hands. 

“Bloom?” Brandon asked, concerned.

“Why are you showing me this?” she stepped back, suddenly very cold and very shaky. “Why did you bring me here?”

Sky took her arm, leading her over to the bench. “Because you’re one of us. We saw it that night in the alley.”

“I can  _ feel  _ it now, Bloom,” Stella moved to sit beside her. “You  _ are _ a magical being.”

“I’m a  _ waitress.  _ There’s  _ no  _ such thing as magic. Why are you doing this?” 

Stella looked over at the boys, murmuring to just give them a second. The two left the clearing, leaving the two alone. They didn’t speak for a long while, leaving Bloom to calm herself, if only a little bit. Finally she told the blonde girl, “I don’t believe you.”

“I can take you to Alfea,” she said. “We can go see the castle. You’ll see that I’m being honest.”

“And how would you do that?”

Without a word, Stella stepped up off the bench, standing before Bloom. Taking a deep breath, she straightened out her arms and her back, blading her palms forward, and as she exhaled she was suddenly bathed in a glittering light that was so brilliant Bloom’s eyes blinked instinctively. Gone almost as soon as it came, Stella no longer stood before her in a green dress and heels. Her body was draped in a glittering orange material, her back exposed, revealing iridescent blue wings that resembled a butterfly. 

“I can transport us there.”

Bloom jumped off of the bench.

She had wings.

Bloom was standing before a girl who had  _ wings  _ and she found herself utterly speechless for the umpteenth time since she had decided to take the damn shortcut back to her apartment. Was walking an extra ten minutes really that difficult? No, not in the slightest. All she had to do was walk an extra ten minutes and none of this would be happening. There would be no Brandon, Sky, or Stella, she would have walked back to her dingy apartment, warmed up some leftovers, fell asleep on her futon, and enjoyed a mundane day off. Then she’d go back to work and the cycle would continue. Eat, sleep, work. 

Standing there, staring at Stella, and pondering where her life was, she was beginning to feel inclined to go with her to this beautiful white castle in the middle of a forest. To get away from the city, the loud noises and all the traffic, away from Tilly and Crosby’s and the mess she created for herself when she moved out to Chicago in a half assed attempt at being an  _ artist.  _ Her meager savings from working through highschool were drying up and she was going to start missing rent payments soon. And if she returned to Gardenia now, having to look her parents in the eye and tell them she failed, having to see Andy around town in the summer or  _ worse,  _ Mitsi...she couldn’t stomach the humiliation. 

How much more proof could she possibly need? Hell, the damn girl grew  _ wings... _ how much more could she reasonably expect her to do?

“Bloom?” Stella finally asked, still waiting for an answer.

“I’ll do it. I want to see Alfea.”


	3. l'appel du vide

Practically squealing with delight, Stella quickly called the boys back over, who Bloom realized had only been out of sight and not out of earshot. She informed them in a rush that Bloom wanted to see Alfea, and that it was time to head back to Magix.

“Hang on Stella,” Brandon said. “She doesn’t have a room. It’ll be dark by the time we get there, and you can’t transport all three of us.”

Stella visibly pouted, seeming defeated. She perked up a moment later, saying that just getting Bloom there and back would be a  _ breeze,  _ just enough to show her the castle and prove to her it was real. This time it was Sky who shot her down, saying she had to save her Winx for transporting them back to Magix, and that they should be going soon anyway.

“It’s still technically year break, they won’t be doing bed checks...why don’t we just stay here?” Stella asked.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have enough room for all three of you in my apartment,” Bloom said awkwardly. It was a studio apartment with a  _ futon,  _ not even a bed.

“So we sleep on the floor, big deal! I have a spell for that.”

“Stella, not that I don’t trust your spell casting,” Brandon said sweetly, “but if we have any slip ups here, we can’t exactly go to Saladine and have him wipe memories. If he finds out we came to Earth like this, with no orders--”

“ _ Relax,  _ Brandon, it’s the first physical spell we learned in junior school. Practiced it at every sleepover since. I’m just making some beds.”

The boys looked unconvinced, but Bloom desperately wanted to see an actual spell, mostly because she wanted to see if the girl would actually do it.

She led them back to her apartment, thankful it was clean and hoping she wouldn’t regret bringing the three strangers into her home. Almost as soon as they walked in the door she walked over to her kitchen counter to light the Bath and Body Works candle her mom had bought her as a moving gift; she’d been saving it for when she  _ desperately  _ needed her apartment to smell good, and now would be the time. Because when they aren’t talked about trolls hunting her down, or Bloom’s sudden powers, or the magical fairy college, this felt  _ normal.  _ Like she could pretend she had some friends over after work. And when things felt normal, she could stop and notice that the boys in her apartment were very, very good looking, like their female counterpart. Must be a Magix thing.

The only furniture in her entire studio apartment was a futon, a coffee table, and a ballet barre. Considering the rest of it was completely bare, it almost felt big. It was smaller than some people’s bedrooms, but the effect was there nonetheless. Stella walked out in the middle of her apartment, waving her hands at the ground in a deliberate pattern and repeating a phrase in a language Bloom didn’t recognize. A small cube appeared on the ground, stretching as she brought her hands up, growing long and raising to about knee height with one end against her wall. Bloom watched as Stella repeated this three more times, calling another command across the quad of mattresses, and blankets and pillows materialized and descended down from hovering inches above the beds.

Bloom could only stare in awe.

“See! I  _ told  _ you it was easy!” Stella boasted, taking a seat on a middle bed. 

“Why four, Stell?” Brandon asked.

She flopped back onto the mattress, huffing. “Well, it’s not fair for Bloom to have to sleep on that  _ thing--”  _ her toe pointed towards the futon--”while we live it up on our down mattresses. She should get one too.”

For a moment she was mildly offended at the blonde insulting her futon, then remembered the number of times  _ she  _ insulted her own futon and let it go.

With a bare kitchen and hungry guests, she ordered a pizza from the pizzeria down the block, wincing slightly at the cost. She figured it was only fair that while the three were visiting Chicago, she fed them some quality deep dish. The small, family run business didn’t have delivery, but Brandon offered to help her carry back the two boxes so for once she didn’t mind. 

The two left Stella and Sky alone in her apartment, strolling along the sidewalks just as the sun began to set. Determined to talk about something that didn’t make her head spin, she racked her mind for something to say. What do two people from two different worlds even have to talk about? The weather? Spaceship maintenance? Quittiach?

“So...how long have you lived in the city?” Brandon asked, saving her from her ridiculous thoughts.

“A few months. Since I graduated from high school.”

“I’ve never lived in a city like this, how do you like it?”

“Honestly,” Bloom glanced over, narrowly dodging a biker as they flew past, “I miss quieter life. I grew up in a smaller town, I’m not so used to how loud this place is." 

"Why'd you come here then?"

She didn't even know the answer to that. She'd been asked it plenty of times, most often by her parents, and she'd come to realize how ridiculous her answer was. "I wanted an adventure," she admitted. "I guess it sounded good at the time." 

"Looks like you found your adventure."

Had she? When she decided to come to Chicago, she told her mother that she felt called to the city. It sounded lame when she thought about it now, but it was true; when she thought about what she wanted to do after high school, the only thing that really brought her joy was her trips to Chicago throughout her teens years, and the thought of returning. Lacking any sort of direction on  _ what  _ she wanted to do, she thought it was enough to know that she wanted to do it  _ here.  _ Her parents had always taught her that she grew the most as a person when she did the things that scared her, the things that pushed her out of the nest and outside of her comfort zone. So uprooting her life and coming to the city seemed like the way to do it.

“Looks like I have.”

Unsure of how to continue, the two were for the most part silent throughout the remainder of their task. And when they returned to Bloom’s apartment, it seemed that Stella and Sky--though, mostly Stella---did majority of the talking. Bloom would ask a question here and there, and occasionally Brandon would interject and add to the conversation, but they both remained observers throughout dinner and preparing for bed. The conversation hovered in Bloom’s mind, feeling unfinished and rushed. She wanted to keep talking. Later into the night, Bloom snuck out onto the fire escape to get some fresh air once her guests were in bed. She wasn’t out there long before Brandon was crawling out the window, just as she had done.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked him while he settled in across from her.

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

“I don’t think I’m going to sleep for a while with all of this,” she answered truthfully. “It’s a lot to take in at once,”

“I can’t imagine what it would be like to learn all of this now, having grown up thinking magic isn’t real.”

“I wish I could do it again,” she shifted in her seat, pulling her knees towards her. “Whatever I did in the alley, I wish I could make that happen again.”

“Powers are hard to control. It takes fairies years to learn how to master them, yours have only just started to emerge. You gotta give yourself some time.”

“How  _ much  _ time, exactly?”

Something in her expression made him laugh, and she felt proud at the sound. “You’ll get there eventually, you just need training,” he told her.

She looked at the ground, ruefully. “I’m not gonna get any training here.” 

“Well, then...come to Alfea.”

“I can’t just... _ go  _ to Alfea. I can’t uproot my life.” Not that she had much to uproot in the first place, but nonetheless, she had an apartment in her name. And a job. And a crusty futon. 

“Powers are dangerous if you don’t learn to control them, Bloom. You might not get a choice. If you don’t learn how to keep them in check, you could really hurt someone.”

The thought had crossed her mind earlier. She looked away while Brandon continued.

“Really...the size of the blast you delivered during the fight was insane, especially for someone untrained. If the guys and I had been closer you would’ve hit us, and you could have hit a civilian. You might not get as lucky next time.”

Unsure of what to say, she dropped her forehead into her knees, groaning. “This is so confusing.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through Bloom...I really can’t. But I just wanted you to know that it might be in everyone’s best interest if we brought you to Alfea, however that may be. You belong there, with us. Not here,” he finished, looking out at the people smoking out of their windows and the teenagers making out in the alley below.

Brandon went inside not long after, leaving her to her thoughts.

Her life was so much simpler a week ago. She was a starving artist, a label she bore like a cross. She was a waitress, who lived in Chicago, with crappy coworkers and crappy neighbors who kind of wanted a pet rabbit. Nothing was all that special about her. She was one of 2.7 million people living in this city, trying to create a life for herself. But somehow she felt closer to these three random strangers she had met in the last forty eight hours than she did anyone else that she’d met in the city since she arrived.

She was lonely. She was broke. She was unhappy. Could this be the calling she felt back in June? Was this the destiny that led her to Chicago in the first place? If she’d stayed in Gardenia, or gone to some college in state like everyone else she went to highschool with, she never would have realized she had powers or learned about this insane magical world. Now she felt called again, but to a new location; Alfea. If Brandon and Stella and Sky could get her in, what was stopping her? Did they have currency and money in the magical world? 

She’d figure it out, She’d find a way. 

One way or another, she was leaving Chicago, and going to Alfea. 


	4. A Plan Commences

Over the next several days, Sky and Stella visited her nightly, forming their plan with the help of Brandon and Timmy, who remained at school. It was too soon to the start of term for her to be admitted as a student, they told her, but Stella had another way of sneaking her in. Even though she'd had a few days to get used to the idea, she still couldn't fathom how they'd pull it off. Hearing Sky review it the night they left for Alfea made it sound even more ridiculous.

"There's  _ no way  _ I can impersonate a royal, Stella. _ " _

"Veranda said she has no intention of going, but I  _ know  _ she never bothered to tell the school. If you show up pretending to be her, we can get you through the gate and in classes until I can figure something else out. I'll make you one of my Ladies, or something. Then they'd have to let you stay."

"Someone is going to recognize that I'm not the real Veranda."

"Don't worry, Bloom!" she said. "I'm the only one who's ever met her, she never had a debutante and never did the social season. The only reason I know her is because she vacations at the Solarian palace."

Bloom was still unconvinced. "But why do I have to impersonate a  _ royal?  _ Can't I just be a regular person?" Pretending to be someone else was stressful enough, but Bloom had as much class about her as a sack of potatoes; there was no way she'd be able to fool anybody.

"Because I don't know any nonroyals who ditched their Alfea slot," Stella explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bloom sighed, pulling out her suitcase to begin packing her clothes. It was her last night before they left for Alfea. She had debated calling her parents and telling them some lie about why she wasn't going to be living in Chicago anymore (along with trying to get out of her lease) but decided to hold off on any major relocation until after she was sure she'd be moving into Alfea. In the meantime, she was only packing a bag of the essentials.

She got all of one t-shirt in before Stella told her not to bother; apparently, her clothes  _ screamed  _ Earth, and she'd have to borrow until they bought her some real fashion in Magix. She briefly protested about the cost but Stella insisted on paying for it, saying she loved a good excuse to go shopping, and Sky told her not to bother trying to talk her out of it. So she slipped her suitcase back into her closet, and sat down on the bed, wishing for the clock that was ticking away quietly to go faster. Sky had his watch synchronized with Brandon's back at Alfea; the two were taking point on the mission, planning it along with Stella and ensuring they stayed on schedule now that the time had finally arrived.

There were so many moving parts to this crazy ruse, it made her head spin. She still couldn't figure out just what compelled these people to help her, but at this point she didn't really care. She just wanted to go, and be surrounded by magical beings and learn how to control her powers. That is, if they ever showed up again. Since that night in the alley, she hadn't had any more random bursts of magic. That being said, she also hadn't been attacked by any trolls lately, so she consoled herself with the thought that she simply needed a good scare to jump start her powers again. Maybe sneaking into Fairy College and pretending to be a princess would be enough.

Sky's watch went off, making them all jump. She wasn’t sure if it was comforting or not, knowing they were nervous as well. 

It was time to start transporting to Alfea. Before she had a chance to feel apprehensive, or even say anything. Stella grabbed Bloom by the elbow, muttered an incantation under her breath, and the stone of her ring began to glow. Bloom felt the metal grow warm against her skin, and closed her eyes, trying not to remember her chemistry class and lessons on what happens when you split atoms.

Eyes closed, she felt her entire body vibrate. It wasn't painful, necessarily, just uncomfortably strange. She felt hot all over, and she could tell her hair was going wild around her. Her body was somewhere between floating and flying-she couldn't feel anything above or below her to indicate some sense of gravity. Scared of whatever she might see, Bloom didn't open her eyes again until Stella shook her arm, calling out her name and telling her to look.

They were in a small clearing, surrounded by thick trees and brush. There was an ornate, old fashioned carriage to her left, led by white horses and trimmed with gold that shone too brilliantly in the dim light to be natural. To her right, she saw a small red aircraft, just slightly bigger than a van, shooting out of the trees and looking very out of place. Brandon was leaning casually against the aircraft, walking over when he saw the two arrive. She could hear fanfare in the distance, and possibly the sound of hoofbeats against a dirt road if she listened closely.

Almost as quickly as she opened her eyes, Stella was already gone.

"It's going to take her a minute to come back with Sky," Brandon explained, seeing Bloom look around.

She sighed, the initial awe at transporting wearing off and suddenly becoming very aware of the sheer magnitude of what they were attempting. "Do you actually think we can pull this off?"

"They don't check for identification. As long as you look and act the part, they're going to be so busy with checking everybody in, they won't look twice. If you say you're Veranda, they'll believe you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Just am," he shrugged his shoulders, looking away.

They both stared off in silence until Stella returned with Sky, and the real work began. Their first task was changing into appropriate clothing for their arrival. Stella had explained that move in day was among the rare occasions that they were required to wear formal attire, since they had to make introductions with their suitemates, whatever that meant. She described it as a tradition that was half followed; move in day used to be a white tie gala held in the evening with servants handling all of the actual  _ moving  _ while the new students mingled over roasted chicken and duck. However, Alfea no longer allowed students to bring personal servants, pushing their students to be more independent away from home.

"But they still make everyone dress up nonetheless, even though we change the moment we get to our rooms," she'd finished in a huff.

Stella grabbed Bloom's hand, leading her into the carriage while the boys returned to the ship. Despite both girls being very short, they still had to crouch awkwardly to keep their heads from hitting the ceiling. Inside the carriage were two benches opposite one another, with a smattering of miniature luggage that looked doll size on one bench. Stella plucked out two from the pile, setting them on the opposite trunk.

_ Exaugeo, _ she murmured, and the two suitcases grew to normal size, much in the same way the mattresses had a few nights prior. Stella opened the larger of the two, stared at its contents, and looked back over at Bloom. "I set these aside for us when I packed. We look the same size, don't we?"

Without waiting for a response, she pulled two dresses out from the trunk, passing a green one over to Bloom. She sat on one of the two benches, stripped down to change, and Bloom turned her head instinctively, slightly uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I'm pretty desensitized to changing in front of people. I can step out for you if you want."

Bloom passed it off, and began the awkward process of struggling into her dress in the cramped carriage. She never liked the girls locker room in high school; she was worried someone would think she was staring at them, or that people might stare at her. And she always felt weird being surrounded by girls chatting and having a good time while she quietly changed, too shy to speak with them. But, if there was ever a time to get out of her comfort zone, now was it.

The dresses were simple enough; a few panels of fabric for the skirts, and a structured bodice. Bloom struggled to lace up the back of hers, and Stella came over to help. "I've never worn a corset before," she said dumbly.

"This isn't a corset. They are  _ much  _ less comfortable, though they do wonders for your waist. I only bust mine out for balls. This is just for cinching," she said as she finished lacing up the back and tucking in the ends. The boys were already waiting outside the carriage, backs turned, when they stepped out. Both boys were in a blue and tan utility uniform, with tall boots and a cap clasped in front with a teal crystal.

Stella grabbed Bloom by the shoulders, spinning her around so that they were face to face. "Hold still, I just need to fix your hair-" Stella raised her hands, and the boys instinctively took a step back. "Relax!" she cooed at them. "I've been using this spell since I was in junior school."

She waved her hands at Bloom in a pattern she didn't recognize, the ring on her middle finger glowing again. Her mass of red curls suddenly braided from her scalp down, the end tucking into a bun for a simple updo. It was like someone was styling her hair in hyper speed, only she didn't see any hands. Stella took a step back and stared as unruly strands flattened themselves into place, admiring her handiwork.

"Now just a few accessories and we should be good!" Bloom was expecting the girl to perform another spell, but instead she went over to the second trunk in the carriage. She plucked out an ornate diamond necklace and handed it to Brandon. "Give this to Bloom-I mean  _ Veranda _ ," she amended. Hearing the correction made her uneasy.

He walked over to her. "May I?" he asked. She nodded, and he wrapped the chain around her neck and clasped the necklace around her. It felt cold and heavy against her skin; she never wore jewelry.

"Stella, she's going to need a tiara for balls, or banquets."

"I know...I only have my own. We'll just have to say you forgot it."

"A princess  _ forgetting  _ her tiara on her way to Alfea?" Sky asked in disbelief. "There's no way anyone will buy it. Especially not Griselda."

"Veranda's never left her kingdom before. We'll say she was frazzled and nervous and left it behind in a hurry. Or we can get a new one before the next ball."

The three glanced around at each other, skeptical. Even Bloom heard the flaws in this plan, without having to see the looks on Brandon and Sky's faces. There was no way this would work. Even if they could sneak her past Griselda, they'd never be able to pull it off for the rest of school.

"We only have to get you in through the door. We won't have to keep this up for long, I promise, just  _ trust me.  _ We'll go through the gate, check in with Griselda, and say we're tired and would like to go straight to our chambers. We can skip the festivities tonight and just unpack, lots of people do."

Still nervous, she smiled at her new friends and climbed into the seat of carriage. Stella followed suit, taking Sky's hand as she walked up. Bloom instantly realized she should have done the same, and scolded herself.  _ I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. _

The boys climbed into the front of the carriage, guiding the horses out of the clearing and along a path she hadn't noticed before. She started to stick her head out the window, trying to see, but shot back inside at Stella's scolding, telling her she looked silly. Instead the girls closed every curtain on the carriage windows, praying that whoever checked them in didn't ask to open the curtains and peek inside.

Brandon and Sky had their paperwork for check in; Stella had fashioned Veranda's documents using her own, saying there was no chance Griselda would be able to tell the difference. "I am an  _ expert  _ at forgery spells," she'd insisted. Apparently, all they had to do was hand the paperwork off to Griselda, check in, and hope she didn't ask too many questions.

It was actually cozy inside the carriage they sat in. Warm velvet seats, beautiful fabrics with tassels decorating the interior. They'd pushed the small, doll sized trunks and suitcases into a small basket at their feet. With the curtains downs, the majority of the light in the carriage came from sconces on either end that Stella had illuminated herself. There was some light, and a gentle breeze, trickling in between the panels of fabric, but most of it was kept out and they traveled in relatively dim lighting.

"Isn't taking a carriage to move in going to draw people's attention?" Bloom whispered, unsure of who could hear them.

"All the royals do. It's customary. It'd be more weird if we didn't."

She debated asking just how many royals there were at Alfea, then resolved to stop asking questions she didn't want to know the answer to. Maybe it was better she stayed clueless, she'd be less nervous that way.

The sound of hoofbeats and trumpets was growing louder. Stella told her they were getting closer to Alfea, and to pretend to be asleep and let her handle it. Bloom started to lie across the bench, before the blonde grabbed her shoulders and told her "just  _ close your eyes,  _ princesses don't just lie down anywhere!"

Yet another reason she shouldn't be impersonating a royal.

They came to a stop, and Bloom could hear dull conversations around them, along with the sounds of wheels against dirt. "We're in the carriage line to arrive. Really, you could fall asleep...this is gonna take a while."

Great, they were stuck in traffic. She couldn't help but snicker at the silliness of it, but kept her eyes closed and attempted to steady her breathing. Which was no easy feat with how tight the dress clung to her rib cage. At least she was used to uncomfortable costumes. 

They crept forward a few hoofbeats at a time for what felt like forever, Bloom's heartbeat steadily rising all throughout. She alternated between flashes of hot and cold as her anxiety cycled, and a million scenarios ran through her head of all the many ways this could go wrong. She couldn't help herself; as much as she tried to tell herself it wasn't helping and to just  _ relax,  _ she couldn't stop worrying.

The louder the music became and the clearer she could hear the page announcers, the more her anxiety rose. Now she could make out their exact words. As each carriage arrived, they announced who the passengers were. When she heard, " _ Princess Delphy of Cerrina!"  _ it felt like the man was just outside her window. Because he most likely was.

The carriage stopped once again. This time, she heard Brandon's voice tell the page, "Princess Stella of Solaria, and Princess Veranda of Valista."

She held her breath.  _ Please, please don't open the curtain. _

They waited for eternity before the page called out their names. She let out a barely audible breath, visibly relaxing before Stella reminded her that getting past the gate was the easy part.

"Just pretend you're sleeping, and I'll handle the rest," she hissed quietly.

Bloom never wanted to leave this carriage. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and her skin felt like it was on fire, yet she was freezing. Inside the carriage it was dark; she liked the dark. It made her feel safe. She could hide in the dark, and that's all she wanted to do right now; hide, go back to her apartment, crawl away from this hair brained plan they'd come up with. There had to have been a better way to sneak her into the school...couldn't she just enroll for the winter semester?

She felt like she was going to be sick. What happened if she threw up on Stella's gown?

The carriage stopped once more and a whole new wave of stress washed over her.

"Out of the carriage, please!" a stern, growly voice commanded.

Her eyes shot open. She looked over at Stella.

_ Griselda,  _ she mouthed.

The Dean of Students. Sky had told her that she was their only real obstacle; if they could get past her, they'd be in the clear. The four had been hoping the girls would be able to stay in the car and simply stay hidden inside while the boys handled the paperwork with Griselda. Stella had been convinced that since Griselda knew her from junior school, they'd both be left alone. Evidently, that wasn't going to be the case.

Masking her anxiety, Stella stepped out of the carriage, motioning to Bloom to stay put.

"Miss G! Long time no see!" she said cheerfully, shutting the door as quickly as she opened it.

"I suppose I shouldn't bother telling you that you are in a complete breach of etiquette, Princess Stella. Where is Princess Veranda?"

"She's absolutely  _ exhausted  _ after traveling all the way from Valista, poor thing. Fell right asleep as soon as we sat down! We wouldn't have to wake her up, would we?"

Bloom could  _ hear  _ the look on Griselda's face through the silence that followed.

"Brandon, could you please wake Princess Veranda? She needs to be present to be signed in."

Crap.

Brandon walked around the carriage, opening the door opposite of Griselda. "Princess Veranda? You've been requested," he called in the carriage dutifully, staring at her terrified expression. He’d chosen to open the door opposite Griselda and the party, giving them the briefest moment to reorient her. He smiled at her; it was a smile, polite smile, but warm nonetheless and she tried to find whatever comfort in it she could. 

Climbing out of her hiding place, she thought to grab his outstretched hand this time, learning her lesson from before. As she stepped down he whispered in her ear to pretend to be tired and let them do the talking. She felt chills travel down her arm at the action, and its implications.

Before they started walking he placed her hand on his elbow, which she was grateful for; after so much time in the dim lighting inside, she was practically blinded by the sun. He led her over to their small party, her eyes squinting as they tried to adjust. The light was bouncing off the white stone of the castle wall beside them like a mirror.

"Miss Griselda, Princess-"

"Yes yes, I'm aware," she cut Brandon off immediately. Stella stifled a laugh. "Papers?"

"I have them, Miss Griselda," Sky presented the parchment pieces to the Dean, who snatched them away unceremoniously. She plucked the glasses hanging from a chain around her neck, bringing them up to her eyes to squint at the seals on the paper. With her eyes beading and her face screwed up to concentrate, she appeared even more birdlike. 

"Princess Veranda, you did not attend junior school with us, is that correct?"

"No, she was tutored privately," Stella said.

"Is she incapable of answering for herself?"

The blonde tucked her chin and cast her eyes over at Bloom.

"Yes, ma'am, this is my first year at Alfea," she said.

"You're a freshman?"

Her knees felt like they could give out at any second. She couldn't believe how much she was shaking...surely Griselda could see her fear. Or smell it. She looked like a person who could smell fear.

"I asked you a question, Princess Veranda."

She hated hearing that name. "Yes, I am a freshman."

The Dean stared at her a moment longer before looking back at her clipboard. "You two are in the freshman wing. Go through those doors there, follow the stairs to the third floor. You are both in the Pine suite. Gentleman, you may return to your post."

For a moment, all four simply stared at Griselda in utter shock. Had they actually gotten away with it? Was this a trick?

" _ Go!"  _ she barked, and instantly they moved. Brandon fetched the basket with Stella's miniature luggage from inside the carriage, handing it to Stella while Sky hopped back on the box seat, rousing the horses and preparing to leave. They two pairs parted ways without saying goodbye, which left Bloom strangely melancholy. She liked having the boys around, and had a feeling it would be quite a while before she saw them again.

They walked through an open set of wooden doors, through an iron archway and into a room that felt larger than Bloom's family home. It was round, nothing but stone, with a massive staircase snaking around its walls. Windows were dotted up the wall and she stopped to stare out one as she climbed to get a view of the gardens behind the castle.

The grounds seemed endless before her. Besides sprawling paths that went so far as to dipped below the horizon line, she could see a massive stable in the distance, with a round pen and jumps. In the sky there were fairies flying already, passing a ball back and forth. It took Bloom a minute to realize that half of the girls were wearing jerseys over their clothing and half had on the glittering material Stella wore when she first had shown Bloom she was a fairy.

Stella walked up behind her, seeing her wide eyed stare. "That's the hoverball team. They moved in early, same with the equestrian girls."

"Are those horses over there?"

"Unicorns, winged horses, and yeah, some Earth horses. We share the stable with Epsilon Academy, Alfea's junior school. They use the stables a lot more than we do, since learning how to ride is a part of their curriculum."

"You guys take classes on horseback riding?" To Bloom, this seemed like a dream come true; she'd always wanted to learn how to ride a horse, but her parents could never afford it. She lowered her voice, in case anyone else was in the stairwell. "Don't you just...fly everywhere?"

"Flying can get tiring, it's not good for long distances. I guess there aren't  _ that  _ many times you'd need to ride a winged horse, but it's a good survival skill. My family and I practice our castle evacuation every year, in case there was ever a raid or coup attempt; winged horses are our escape plan. And I ride a unicorn in the Solarian Sun Parade, so there's stuff like that."

"I would love to learn how to horseback ride," she admitted.

"You've  _ never  _ been on a horse?"

"Nope, not once."

"We should tell Brandon," Stella smiled, her voice returning to normal. "I bet he'd  _ love  _ to help you learn!"

The girls resumed their trek to their room. "No he wouldn't," she said, trying to fight her smile.

"You are  _ blushing,  _ my friend. You like him!"

"No I don't, I barely know him!" she laughed, pausing beside the door to the third floor while she waited for Stella.

"Yes, but you'd  _ like  _ to know him."

Now to that, she'd agree, and the look she tossed at Stella likely said as much. The two fell into a content silence while Stella pushed open the doors. It opened into a large corridor, with a few doors to their right and tall windows to their left. They were met with two more men, much older than the pages and dressed in military uniforms, though they didn't look like classmates of Brandon and Sky. They asked what suite the girls were staying in, and two offered to walk them there. They didn't attempt to make small talk, and neither did Stella, so Bloom stayed quiet. Their entire interaction was extremely formal, even the manner in which the guards spoke to them; they'd bowed to Stella and called her by her full title, referring to Bloom as simply "your Highness." It seemed like everyone knew Stella here; briefly, she worried it drew attention to herself, but quickly decided there was no way to steal any attention from someone who shone as brightly as Stella.

While they walked along the plush, warm carpet, snaking through hallways, Bloom could feel the train of her dress drag along the fabric. The gentle tug, paired with ambiance of the stone castle walls and lit oil lanterns, was beginning to make her feel regal. Almost like she could possibly pull off pretending to be a royal. This was ridiculous, of course, she didn't have the faintest idea about politics, or royal etiquette, or how to properly curtsy, but could get used to  _ this  _ feeling she was beginning to have. Like she was somebody powerful, and important. It was a peculiar feeling that she had only ever felt on stage, when she’d danced Aurora, performing her variation in front of her peers on stage. Maybe she was simply on a high from successfully sneaking into the school, but she couldn't help but feel important.

The men whom she decided must be guards stopped before yet another massive wooden door. "The Pine Suite, Princess Stella," one said, while they each took an iron handle in hand and pushed the door inward. "Welcome home, your Highnesses."


	5. Meet the Royals

Bloom and Stella were the first to arrive at the suite, stepping inside while the guards closed the doors behind them. Stella immediately made herself at home, setting her basket of suitcases on an end table beside a frosted glass door with spiraling iron details. Lettering that gleamed unnaturally shone above the doorway, reading  _ Princess Stella, Solaria.  _ Bloom scanned the other doors until she found her name, along with one she didn’t recognize directly above it.  _ Princess Veranda, Valista  _ and  _ Queen Flora, Linphea.  _ It took a moment for Bloom to remember that  _ she  _ was Veranda. She was also thrown off by the idea that her roommate was a  _ queen,  _ and hoped she wasn’t too...snooty. 

Stella followed Bloom’s gaze. “They made us do all these personality tests over the break, before getting room assignments. The school tries to put together people who will like each other...so I guess Queen Flora and Veranda would have gotten along.”

Bloom walked around the oval shaped parlor, reading the names above the other two doors. _ Lady Musa of the Harmonic Nebula...Techna, Guardian Apprentice of Zenieth. _

“Is  _ everyone  _ here a royal?” she asked Stella, turning back around. The blonde girl looked up from the kitchen cabinet she was currently rifling through on the other side of the room. 

“Royalty, nobility, high ranking members of the military, pretty much anyone who’s a mover and a shaker within their kingdom or realm,” she said, coming over to scan names as well. “Techna isn’t a noble,  _ technically,  _ but she’s going to become a Guardian Fairy for her country; that’s the most elite squad of fairies a kingdom has. They protect the royal family.”

“And Veranda?”

Stella sighed. “You’re a princess with no chance at the throne because Valista is traditionalist and you have brothers. Simple as that.”

There was nothing simple about lying to her future roommates about who she was for the rest of college...realistically, there was no way they could keep up this ruse forever and was about to say as much when Stella spoke up. “We just need to keep you around long enough for me to make you one of my Ladies, then you  _ have  _ to stay by favor of the Solarian Royal Family,” she grabbed Blooms hands and looked at her. “You  _ belong  _ at this school, we can’t have you going back to Earth now can we?”

Before she could come up with a response to this girls generosity, the door was opened once again by one of the guards. 

“Princess Stella and Princess Veranda, Lady Musa of the Harmonic Nebula,” he said, turning to the side to let her pass through the doorway.

A girl with black and blue hair and almond shaped eyes walked into the parlor, her dress matching her hair. She looked much less regal than Stella, though nonetheless beautiful. 

Bloom stood awkwardly, already intimidated by the girl. She jammed her shoulders down like she’d done in ballet class, feeling very silly, and very un-royal.  _ This is never going to work. _

Musa curtsied deeply to the two girls standing before her. Bloom stuck an ankle out behind her, plieing ever so slightly--and finding an angry muscle in her ankle in the process--just as Stella had taught her the night before last. Musa rose as they did.

“Hey, I’m Musa,” the girl said, breaking the formality instantly. She smiled at them, and Bloom felt more at ease.

“I’m Stella, and this is Veranda,” the blonde princess said, reaching out to hug their new roommate, who seemed caught off guard.

“So...who else are we rooming with?” she asked, walking over to the lounge area and plopping down in a chair, very ungracefully. Her skirt puffed around her like a nest, and Bloom realized she wore combat boots instead of heels.

“Techna and Queen Flora of Linphea.”

“Techna and I were roommates in junior school,” Musa said. “She’s coming late tonight, probably missing the party. I’ve never met Flora before, but I’ve heard of her.”

“Hasn’t everyone?” Stella called from the kitchenette, where she was grabbing glass bottles of water. She held one up in the air, asking if anyone wanted one.

The overall normalcy of this was surprising to Bloom. She expected everyone to be so much more formal, regal, so much less ordinary. But here they were, just lounging in their private suite in a castle, drinking water and gossiping like any normal eighteen year old girls; if she tried, Bloom could pretend they were just killing time in prom dresses before the dance in a fancy room.

Musa must have noticed her discomfort, and asked, “what’s up?”

Stella jumped in immediately. “Veranda’s never been outside of her kingdom before, she’s having a bit of culture shock.”

“Maybe that’s why they roomed you with Flora,” Musa said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound too dumb.

Stella settled down in one of the plush couches facing Bloom. “Flora became a queen when she was two, after her father was killed during a coup attempt. She and her sister are political targets. Apparently, they’ve been under guard protection ever since.”

“Why is she coming here, then?” 

“She has to get trained eventually,” Stella mused. “And Alfea is one of the safest castles in the universe.”

“And a good place to make alliances. Speaking of which, are either of you going to Festifall tonight?” Musa asked. The shift between  _ political alliances of the countries we rule  _ and  _ college meet and greet  _ was practically laughable. 

Once again, Stella saved Bloom from having to answer. “I think we both want to stick around here and settle in. Festifall is lame, they send the boys home before the party anyway.”

The three girls laughed, settling into easy small talk while they waited on Flora and Techna. Bloom did her best to participate, but she continually found herself settling back and just listening to the lady and princess discuss the latest “political gossip.” They talked about boys, and teachers, and speculated which classes they would be placed in. It sounded, for all intents and purposes, like typical college chatter. They glanced up from their conversation at another knock on the door, watching the doors open in tandem.

“Princess Stella, Princess Veranda, and Lady Musa, may I present Queen Flora of Linphea.” 

Upon hearing this both Musa and Stella stood up and walked around to the open space in front of the door; Bloom followed just a hair behind. 

Bloom hadn’t thought this was possible, but Flora had actually managed to out dress Stella. Her pale pink dress was beaming under the light, and her hair was plaited into a perfect braid that cascaded down her back. Briefly, Bloom wondered where her tiara was, and made a mental note to ask about it later.

The queen stopped in front of the three girls. They curtsied in unison--though, Stella did have to tug on Bloom’s hand--before she gestured with her hands at them to stop. “Oh it’s alright, there’s no need to curtsy,” she said, her voice warm but nervous. “I’m Flora.”

The girls went through their introductions once more, albeit much more formally than last time, before retiring to their couches in the parlor; all except for Flora, who went into their shared bedroom almost immediately. 

“She seems shy,” Musa whispered to Bloom. “Maybe we should all go to Festifall, give her a chance to feel settled in.”

She looked over at Stella to jump in, but she was out of earshot. She was on her own. “I think that might be a little much, maybe we could all just hang out in here?” 

“We could have an old school pajama party, I know Tech would love it,” she offered. “And we can order food up from the kitchen.”

“Won’t we have to wait for Techna though? Before we change into pajamas?”

“What, for introductions? She won’t care. Tech’s super chill,” Musa said. “Dunno about Flora, though. I think you should ask her.”

She was about to decline when Stella agreed that Bloom should be the one to go.  _ Oh come on,  _ she scolded herself.  _ You’re just asking this girl to come out of her room. No big deal. She’s just a person. _

Taking a breath, she walked over to her new room, nearly tripping over her skirts in the process. Inside, she found Flora, crying on her bed.

Bloom walked over to her new roommate, sitting down next to the bed frame in an awkward heap of fabric. “Flora?”

She jumped, not realizing someone had walked into the room. Instantly she was wiping her eyes and making apologies, before trailing off and glancing down. “It’s been a long day,” she finished.

“I know,” Bloom sympathized, sitting down on her bed. “This doesn’t feel like my room, or my bed, or my school..it doesn’t feel like I belong here,” she opened up, feeling more honest and more real than she had in hours. 

“I’ve never even left my kingdom before.”

“Neither have I,” she said, and if she pretended that Earth was her kingdom, then it didn’t feel like lying. 

“I’m not even sure I wanted to…” 

Bloom waited for the queen to finish her sentence, but she seemed either too choked up or too lost for words. “I think I want to be here. But I miss home, this is so different,” the redhead said.

“What’s Valista like?”

She had herself to blame for leading them both to the question. It took her a moment to think of an appropriate response. “Nothing like here,” she answered vaguely. “What’s Linphea like?”

“I don’t know. My sister and I were never allowed to leave the castle.”

“Seriously? Not once?”

“We left a few times to see the people, and so they could see us...but we were always under constant protection. We didn’t get to explore much.”

“That sounds really lonely.”

“Yeah, it was.”

They sat in an uncomfortable silence, each waiting for the other to speak. She felt uneasy offering up any of her own personal information, lest it give her away as a fraud. But she felt guilty doing so; Flora shared something extremely personal, she felt it was only fair she offered up something as well. Fortunately, Flora stood up from the bed, saying she was going to wash the smeared makeup off her face. She walked towards a door Bloom hadn’t noticed when she’d walked in; they had their own bathroom.

She waited for Flora to finish, glancing around their room and taking it all in. It was relatively plain compared to the living area; two large beds, each with a light canopy draped down from the ceiling. Two desks, two dressers, and two large wardrobes. The room felt light and airy, with pine for the furniture and a pale blue on the walls. It was more suited to Bloom’s taste than the ornate and warmed tone living area that screamed royalty; inside their room felt much more  _ college  _ than castle, if a little scaled up. 

Flora slipped out of the bathroom, and the two returned to their suitemates in the living room. In their absence, Stella and Musa had both changed out of their gowns and into pajamas, telling the two girls to do the same when they came out. For a moment Bloom panicked, realizing she didn’t  _ have  _ any pajamas with her, let alone the dyed silk that Stella and Musa wore. 

“You can borrow a pair from me!” Stella offered, standing up and leading Bloom by the shoulders to her room. “Veranda’s clothing was lost in transit. We should all go shopping in Magix tomorrow before classes begin, since she needs all new clothes.”

The story seemed to satisfy their suitemates, and the two closed the door behind them inside Stella’s room. She couldn’t help but notice the fact that Stella’s room was  _ huge,  _ and she had three different wardrobes, all to herself. 

“It’s working!” Stella hissed quietly, rifling through one of her dressers and plucking out another set of nice pajamas. She threw them in Bloom’s direction, who was still struggling to unlace the back of her dress. “Here--no one can undo these by themselves--” she said, giving the redhead a hand. “Musa had to help me with mine too. This is why Princesses have Ladies, just wait till you try on a corset.”

“How long are we going to have to say I’m Veranda?” she asked again. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful to Stella, but she  _ hated  _ lying. 

“Just give me a few days to phone my parents and get it all sorted out. But you’re here now, so as far as I’m concerned, we’re doing just fine.”

_ If you say so.  _ She felt like such a fraud. 

Techna arrived relatively unceremoniously a few hours later. The guards didn’t announce her the way they announced the other girls, and since they were all in pajamas, they didn’t bother getting up and curtseying. She and Musa shared a quick hug, but she retreated into her room and changed quickly.

The girls continued to lounge on their couches and talk, with Techna quickly sliding in. The topic had turned to boys, with Stella discussing how  _ dreamy  _ Prince Sky was, and what an alliance between Solaria and Uraklyon would be like. “We’re all set to be the power couple of the year, mark my words!”

“It would be a match made in political heaven,” Techna said, in an ambiguous accent Bloom thought sounded like the Queen of England. “Speaking of political alliances,” she continued, her voice going sing-songy, “how is Riven doing, Musa?”

“Ooo, who’s  _ Riven? _ ”

“Riven’s a guy from my realm going to Red Fountain. He and I are arranged to be married in a few years,” she said, much more calmly than Bloom would in her circumstance.

“You’re in an  _ arranged marriage?”  _ the redhead said incredulously. 

Musa blinked back at her. “Is that not a thing on Valista?”

“It’s...not common,” she said. “Isn’t it weird knowing the guy you’re going to marry already?”

“Not really. He and I have known about it all our lives, I don’t know any different at this point.”

Bloom leaned forward, more invested in the conversation than she had been all night, considering this actually made sense to her. “When are you guys supposed to get married? Do you have the whole white dress picked out yet?”

Stella gave her a wide eyed,  _ shut up!  _ look, but it was too late.

“White dress? Isn’t that an Earth thing?” 

She sat back on her heels, instinctively looking over to Stella for help. All the blonde could do was stare back at her. Did she really just give them away?

The room hung in a heavy silence, until Flora finally hopped in. “What does the Harmonic Nebula do for marriages? I’ve never been to a wedding there before.”

“I’m surprised that your advisors didn’t stick you with an engagement when your--” Musa stopped herself, and suddenly the room was unpleasantly silent once more. 

“When my parents died?” Flora finished the girls sentence, free of hostility. “Don’t worry, they’re working around the clock to pick somebody. One even sent me a list of  _ appropriate  _ sutors from Red Fountain to meet.” she grinned.

“Really? Like who?” Stella asked eagerly.

The conversation quickly shifted over to the “most eligible bachelors of Red Fountain,” any awkwardness passing. Once more they settled into their gossip, and Bloom laughed here and there along with her new friends. This was something she always dreamed of experiencing...she felt like she was at a real sleepover, with real friends, all false pretenses aside. It was comfortable, and she wanted to get used to it.

Her brief moment of contentedness was shattered as the double doors to their suite were slammed open suddenly. The guards had barely announced her name before the Dean came barreling through the door, fury written on her face. All of the girls lept to their feet immediately, only to look past their entrance and see a team of guards and a white haired woman Bloom didn’t recognize.

“Princess Stella, Princess Veranda, come with me please.”

She could practically feel herself sinking into the floor.

“Now!”


	6. Interrogation and Inauguration

It was four in the morning when the girls returned to their suite. Griselda, Faragonda, and a man named Saladine had grilled them for hours over just how they had managed to sneak somebody into Alfea. Over and over they were asked  _ who,  _ and  _ when,  _ and most importantly,  _ why.  _ Even Stella failed to come up with a good reason. Why had they lied? Why not just explain the situation to Faragonda and see what could have been done?

To hear the weak justification come out of their mouths cemented what Bloom had already known; likely, what each of them had already known, but had chosen to ignore. This was a ridiculous plan, and she had probably ruined any chance she had of staying at Alfea. Her eyes sunk particularly low when Stella mentioned making Bloom a lady-in-waiting, and that she would have to stay by favor of the Solarian royal family; Griselda was quick to put the young princess in her place, saying that even if Bloom was a noble, both of them have done more than enough to get expelled within the evening, regardless of who Stella’s parents were.

Saladine was a short, frail looking old man, but when he turned his disapproving stare onto Bloom and demanded to know who had helped her from Red Fountain, her throat closed from the intimidation. Both she and Stella stayed steadfast and refused to give up the names of the boys, which is likely why it took them so many hours to finally be released and sent back to their rooms, under guard protection. Or, more likely, under guard watch.

They were released with the instruction to be ready to join Faragona again in her office at noon the following day to hear her final decision. They still had yet to know what would be done with them, and had to go through an entire night of waiting. Bloom was thankful that when they returned to their suite, their roommates were already in bed. She didn’t think she could face them; like always, a million questions raced through her head about what they must be thinking, or assuming, but she didn’t have the energy to set the record straight. Even if she did, the record wasn’t exactly pristine. 

When she walked into her room, however, it was flooded with light instantly, with Flora bolting upright in the bed. “What  _ happened?”  _ she asked.

“Are you that light of a sleeper?” 

“What? No, I couldn’t sleep. We’ve all been up waiting to see what happened with you guys...we finally went to bed thinking you weren’t coming back. What did you guys  _ do?” _

She signed, resigning herself to getting no sleep for the evening. In all fairness, she  _ did _ owe the girl an explanation, though it was hard not to dump the blame of her exhaustion on her roommate.

Launching into an abridged version of the tale, Flora’s eyes widened with each passing sentence. The room was filled with a heavy, choking, exhausting silence as the last word of the story rang out and Flora leaned back into her bed, processing what she’d just been told.

“So your name is Bloom, then, not Veranda?” she finally said.

Bloom bobbed her head, uncomfortable. “Yup. That’s right.”

“Well...it sounds like you could use some sleep, it’s been a long few days,” she said, and Bloom was taken aback by her sudden nurturing tone. It was a far cry from the crying Queen she’d met, just hours prior. 

“Yeah...I guess I do.”

She was the last to rise in their suite. Each time her eyes opened she willed them back to close again, drifting in and out most of the morning in dreamless sleep. Nobody tried waking her up, until Flora brought her something in a hot mug and told her that Faragonda would be there in an hour.

When she walked out into the living room, her suitemates were all surrounded by Stella, with tiny plates of meats and cheeses and breads littering the coffee table. All conversation ceased when she sat down beside the blonde.

“Good morning Bloom,” Techna said, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of relief at hearing her own name.

She settled awkwardly into the couch, eyeing the food warrily. She hadn’t had dinner last night and knew she  _ should  _ eat, but didn’t have any appetite. 

“We’re just waiting for Faragonda to send for us,” Stella said, noticing her apprehension. “Eat while you can.”

The girls were relatively silent while she spread the most familiar cheese she saw onto what looked like grilled pita bread. She hadn’t anticipated how foreign the food would be. Techna looked like she was going to burst with questions, but held her tongue nonetheless. The entire suite was held in a pensive silence until another sharp knock filled the room, and Bloom practically lept from her seat at the sound. 

Once more, they were led through the castle flanked on guards on all sides. It was almost embarrassing--in some distant part of her mind, she hoped that if she  _ did  _ stay, none of her classmates would recognize her, or remember this. Unlikely, but she could hope nonetheless. 

On the top of the highest tower in the castle sat Headmistress Faragonda’s office. It was a round room, encircled entirely by windows, with a single marble desk in the center and a dozen or so chairs along the perimeter. Guards filed around the room, backs to the walls but eyes on Bloom. She felt like she was in a fishbowl. 

Two chairs waiting for the girls when they arrived, facing the desk that was strangely filled with a similar spread of food to that of the suite earlier, only this time with cookies and biscuits and an ornate teapot. Confused, they sat waiting in trepidation to discover their fate. She wasn’t even worried about staying or leaving Alfea...all Bloom wanted was to go home no worse for wear. The thought of actual legal implications had come to her the night previously, and she struggled to rid her mind of it now. 

Last night the true effect of the windows was lost on Bloom, who couldn’t see more than mirrors in the glass with the dark sky they’d had. Now, she could truly see the miles of forest stretch around them, and the sheer volume of guards patrolling the castle walls and gates. With security this extensive, how  _ had  _ they managed to sneak her in? Even now, there were half a dozen guards in this very room.

With little warning but a small crack of sound, Faragona appeared in her office in a flash of light, similar to the way Stella had transformed in front of her. Her expression read much more friendly than it had the night before.

“Hello girls. Please excuse my lateness, I was looking for teacups. I thought we could use some sweets to keep us awake, since last night ran very late.” 

The two girls couldn’t help but glance between themselves in confusion, in shock at the change of tone and questioning its source. Their interrogation had been hostile, threatening, and loud. Faragonda had stayed for the most part silent, but Griselda had threatened everything from locking them in the dungeons to turning them into elves. Saladine swore that Solaria would reap the political consequences of compromising the safety of countless royals and dignitaries. He spoke of lost political alliances and the effect it would have on her country’s economy when the news broke. Griselda threatened more bodily harm. 

This must be the calm before they ruin Stella politically, and turn Bloom into a rug. 

“Please, eat, you girls look famished,” the Headmistress said in a very motherly tone, filling each cup with tea.

Taking a breath, Bloom reached out and plucked a pastry filled with what looked like strawberry jam; she was surprised to bite into it and taste such a familiar flavor.

“I had sent for a selection of pastries from Chicago. That is where you are from, Bloom?”

The flaky crust and white icing turned to sand in her mouth. She felt her belly grow hot as the blood rushed from her face. 

“There’s no sense hiding it now. Saladine checked his deployment schedule. Only one team was sent to Earth. It didn’t take long to get information from them. Prince Sky and Brandon of Uraklyon, Timmy of Zenieth, and Lord Riven of the Harmonic Nebula. You can stop worrying about giving your friends up, though I applaud your loyalty.”

“Are you going to arrest me?” Bloom blurted out suddenly. 

The Headmistress smiled slightly, seemingly amused. “No, Bloom, no one is being arrested. You both are young, and had no negative intent with this plan of yours. You should know that last night would have got much faster had you just been honest with us; all that we worried about was the safety of the castle. We didn’t know what to think; all we knew was that someone was impersonating a royal in order to trespass their way into a castle filled with the next generation of the leaders of the realm. Princess Stella bringing a friend to school is really the least of our concerns.”

She cast her eyes down, hearing the logic of what Faragonda said, and struggling to understand their lack of judgement when it was laid out so plainly before them. Stella kneed her discreetly, and gestured for her to pick up her teacup, for whatever reason. It must be rude not to touch what she’s been offered. Uncertainly, she took a sip, and it felt like she was drinking tar.

“What  _ is  _ going to happen to Bloom, Headmistress?”

She folded her hands neatly on the table. “This situation is unprecedented. In any other circumstance, we would send you  _ both  _ back to your kingdoms, and encourage you to finish your magical education there. However Bloom, you are not from the magical realm. Alfea and Red Fountain are run by the leading fairies, heroes, and wizards of the time...and none of us could have ever foreseen a magical being residing on Earth. There is something going on here, that much we can all agree on. Because of this,” she paused, looking back and forth between the girls, “the faculty of Alfea have decided that you will remain here as a student, taking Princess Veranda’s spot, while we get to the bottom of this. But,” she continued, and her voice grew stern, “you girls are on  _ very  _ thin ice. Princess Stella, you struggled with discipline at Epsilon Academy, something we hoped wouldn’t follow you to your final stage of training. That is clearly  _ not  _ the case. Should you step out of line again, we will be sending you back to Solaria with an official letter of complaint to the royal family. I’m sure that I do not need to impress upon you the implications of such a disgrace.”

“Of course not, Headmistress,” she answered, the girl’s voice uncharacteristically small.

Bloom couldn’t help but ignore the exchange, still in shock at the words that she had heard and was almost convinced she’d heard incorrectly. Had she really been offered a spot to stay?

While she struggled to wrap her head around the situation, Faragonda went on to explain the finer details of the arrangement, as well as ask Bloom increasingly personal questions about her family and her past. The two dissected anything they possibly could about Bloom’s life, trying to link the story together. How could a fairy wind up on the magicless planet? One by one, covering topic after topic, they cleared each plate of pastry and finished the pot of tea. Eventually Faragonda dismissed Stella back to the suite with a guard, and called for more hot water and leaves. 

The afternoon stretched on much like this, and Bloom grew weary as the sugar and caffeine wore off. While she wouldn’t have thought it possible the night previous, she liked the headmistress; she asked her questions tactfully and respectfully, but didn’t miss the chance to tease Bloom as she blushed mentioning Brandon visiting her, even if she quickly added that Prince Sky came along as well.

She allowed Bloom to ask questions as well, in a free space where she didn’t have to worry about feeling dumb. Faragonda explained the intricate political system that existed within Alfea, about the balls and dinners and other formalities with Red Fountain to build alliances. Briefly, the headmistress explained the idea of  _ advantageous marriages  _ within the school, and gently warned her against getting too involved with any Red Fountain boy until she better understood the politics, lest she get attached but have her heart broken.

After hours of discussion, broken only by brief interruptions from Griselda, the two agreed on private sessions between each of them to help Bloom learn to control her powers. She hadn’t known it, but Stella and the other girls had been in formal magical training for  _ years  _ already...she had only just begun, and there was a long way to go.

It was nighttime when she returned to the suite. This time, she found the entire room empty, with a note from Techna saying they’d gone down to dining for dinner and instructions on how to order up a meal from the kitchen. She wasn’t too hungry, but suddenly realized she had no idea what to do with herself; she didn’t have a phone, or a laptop, or books, or much of anything to entertain herself and occupy her time. None of her personal belongings had found their way to Alfea, and for the first time, Bloom mourned her ballet barre and pointe shoes back in her apartment. Briefly, she questioned what she should do about the lease, her job, or her parents, but filed the concern away; after all, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Be it boredom or actual exhaustion, she decided on turning in early for the night, thinking it must be around bed time if it was already dark outside. Bloom had no sense of time here; there were no clocks, or watches, or computers to check. She briefly roused when Flora came home, and muttered a polite “good night,” before drifting off again, sinking even further into sleep. 

Unlike her first night in the castle, she did dream; in fact, her night was filled with the most vivid and exotic dreams she’d ever had. She dreamt of a ballroom floor made of pure gold, of decorated princes lining the walls, and ladies in beautiful dresses gliding across the floor to music she heard so clearly. The backdrop of the room was a wall of fire, that stretched from the floor to the ceiling yet never traveled outside of its near perfect square. She didn’t feel any sort of fear of apprehension when she stared at the flame...if anything, it felt like it was calling to her, pulling her deeper into the dream and closer to the couple that sat on the thrones beneath it. For as long as she watched, she never saw the fire move outside of the single accent wall behind the thrones, only ebb and flow, up and down, like ocean waves. The full skirts of the ladies dancing along the floor lit up in a warm glow, casting playful shadows along the around the ballroom. Just as she began to descend the stairs, mesmerized by the flame across the room and wanting desperately to reach out and see if it was real, an artificial and out of place noise filled the scene and she could see the walls shattering around her as the people faded to dust in the wind.

This time, it was an actual alarm that roused her; she peeled her eyes open to stare at her sunlit dorm room, disoriented and wondering just how long she’d been asleep. 

“Five more minutes,” she muttered to Flora, pulling the covers over her ears and wanting desperately to return to her dream that she could already feel slipping away.

“Don’t fall back asleep,” she yawned. “We have assembly in twenty minutes.”

They dressed quickly, Flora lending Bloom a set of clothes; flowing slacks, practical boots and a well fitted top. It was flattering--nothing anyone would wear on Earth, but Bloom liked it. The fashion varied widely amongst the girls; Stella in a short orange dress, while Techna wore a fitted pantsuit. Nothing looked  _ unattractive,  _ but somewhat discombobulated together. 

The dining hall was half full when they arrived. It was only the size of a large restaurant, really, with round tables and warm tablecloths spotted along the dark wood floor that paneled up half of the wall. She could see the entrance into the kitchen tucked in the corner, behind a gauzy curtain that matched the tablecloths and window treatments. 

Each table was labeled with a floating flower or sprig; the table with the rose was already filled, while a lilac hovered lazily at a lonely table, rotating slightly with the wind. Near the front of the dining hall was a small, intimate stage; to the immediate right was a table with what seemed to be a sprig of pine, and the girls took their seats quietly as soon as Techna pointed it out. The room was relatively silent and tense--Musa had told her to simply "act natural" when they left for their breakfast, and she didn’t have much to worry about. Everyone seemed too shy to speak up, and the room was filled with nothing but the sound of scraping chairs and the occasional polite greeting.

The girls rose abruptly as Miss Fargonda entered the room, with Griselda and a few teachers following behind. They fanned out on either side of the headmistress as she took her place at the podium.

“Good morning girls, and welcome to a new year!”

“Good morning Headmistress,” the crowd mimicked back. Bloom mouthed the words awkwardly, hoping it wasn’t too noticeable that she didn’t know her lines. Following her friends lead she sat down as gracefully as possible, keeping her eyes on Miss Faragonda and she shuffled her papers and adjusted her glasses.

Waiters came and filled their water glasses while the headmistress spoke about castle rules and policies, an upcoming invasion drill, and tryouts for various clubs and sports. Having no intention of stepping out of her nonexistent comfort zone yet, Bloom was just beginning to zone out when something piqued her attention.

“And next week, we will graciously host the first relations event with Red Fountain--the Inauguration Ball! You will receive your written timelines in your suites by the end of the day. Remember, a lack of punctuality is a lack of  _ respect,  _ both for our guests and for yourself.” 

With that she turned the attention over to the Head of Discipline. Griselda cleared her throat loudly, silencing the small murmurings that had filled the room while the two transitioned and Miss Faragonda took her seat. Griselda had been the harshest of the professors who’d grilled her and Stella; seeing her again made Bloom’s heart pound like before. Something about the woman made her uneasy; when she went on to explain the years new disciplinary policies, which included everything from power suppression and manual labor around the grounds  _ “at her discretion, _ ” Bloom made a note to ensure she never had to face punishment from this woman again.

One by one, each of the teachers went through and listed their brief announcements and Bloom grew more and more hungry, and more and more bored. She could see it reflected in her suitemates slumping posture and wandering eyes as their teachers dragged on. She was dying to ask Stella more about the Inauguration Ball. Would Brandon be there?

The moment the teachers filed away after Faragonda’s closing statements, hot food was brought out at set before every girl by a small army of soundless waitresses in flowing gray dresses. She said thank you to one out of habit, instantly garnering the attention of her table and those nearest. The girl stared back at Bloom, confused, before awkwardly smiling and scurrying away to fetch another plate for someone else.

Musa, who sat beside her, leaned over and quickly whispered  _ we don’t talk to the servants.  _ Bloom frowned, confused. She’d been a waitress for too long to behave so rudely to another one. But looking around, each of the girls continued on their normal conversations and completely ignored those setting their breakfast down in front of them. It felt wrong, but Bloom was in no position to make waves, and kept her mouth shut. 

Stella was the first person at the table to pick up a spoon and start eating what resembled oatmeal, loaded with berries and nuts, though none that she recognized. The flavors were richer, some more tart and some more sweet. The temperature was pleasantly yet strangely consistent, the top of her food never cooling and the center never too warm. She had to force herself to eat slowly, like the rest of the girls.

Bloom desperately wanted to ask questions about the Ball, but felt like the wrong time. The chatter was kept light, polite, and bland; weather, sports, summer trips they’d taken. It felt out of place and she didn’t want to brand herself as the  _ Earthling  _ to her new classmates, wondering if they didn’t already know. Once they returned to their suite, she instantly burst with questions for the girls. Funnily enough, she wasn’t the only one; Flora was also hounding Stella for information about what it would be like and how to prepare. 

“Have you really  _ never  _ been to a ball?” Stella asked the Queen, as though it was a crime against humanity. 

“My sister and I weren’t allowed around anyone but each other, really. We learned a few dances with the guards--well, the young ones at least,” Flora said with a smile, “but that was it. It was usually just her and I.”

“You must miss her a lot,” Musa said, sympathetically.

“Yeah, I do...” Flora trailed off, and perked up quickly, noticing the energy shift in the room, “I want to hear more about dances. You three have to get Bloom and I ready so we don’t make fools out of ourselves.” 

They spent their last day before class laughing through  _ Princess Training,  _ with Stella placing books on their heads and telling them to walk (which Flora could already do, but played along with for Bloom’s benefit) or showing Bloom how to whip a fan open and flutter at her face, alluringly. They had a good laugh when she clumsily sent it flying over her shoulder, and Flora showed her how to grip the outside of the fan to keep it steady. She’d always wanted to dance the Kitri variation, where the dancer gets to use a fan as a prop, but she’d never gotten the chance. She wondered if her dance friends would have been this jovial if she’d sent a fan across the room.

Actual dancing is what Flora struggled with the most, but Bloom didn’t have trouble in. Stella determined herself to be the dance instructor while Musa and Techna acted as the men leading. They giggled their way through several two- and three- step combos, before Musa and Bloom started getting cocky and twirled each other around, kicking their legs out like Rockettes. They learned that Musa had grown up singing and dancing, and was quite skilled in both; Bloom shared that she’d been in ballet classes all her life, and had dreamed of being a professional dancer when she had arrived in Chicago. She’d begun to explain to them what ballet was, expecting a cultural block, when Techna told her that ballet existed in the magical world as well; it was even part of their required training because of the discipline and strength training. This left her with a whole new host of questions, wondering where the art had begun, or if it had been a multiple discovery between the worlds. 

Much of Bloom’s dance training had been in the corps de ballet; she’d learned many roles that resembled the formal dances one would find in the Victorian era. While she didn’t know the steps of the court dances they learned now, the pattern was easy enough to pick up and both she and Flora were sailing through them with smiles on their faces by the end. She liked wearing the long skirt Stella had insisted she put on, saying that they had to practice in the clothing they’d perform in. The rule of thumb was similar in ballet, and she felt at home gliding around in a long skirt and dancing shoes. While she preferred her own worn in dancing heels--Stella’s didn’t quite fit her, and the heel was much more narrow--she nonetheless felt her posture correct to what Musa had been driving into her earlier and her chin sat proudly as she knew she was performing the steps right. Bloom had always been more confident dancing that not, and she was grateful to find it was such an integrated part of this society; even moreso, it seems, than in Chicago. 

She could almost tell herself that at the Inauguration Ball, as long as she was dancing, someone might believe she belong here.


	7. Behind the Curve

That evening, not long after they’d retired to the parlor, a page knocked on the door with a parcel of paper for them. It contained both their weekly schedule of classes, and further instructions of dress code, arrival times, and etiquette for the Inauguration Ball the following weekend. She barely scanned that document; she was too excited seeing that as Techna had said,  _ ballet  _ was integrated into her schedule, her first class being _ tomorrow _ . She’d also be studying charms and royal etiquette. Politely, quietly, she swallowed her questions and her excitement while her new friends discussed dresses and tiaras and boys _ ;  _ she resigned herself with just listening, suddenly far more excited about the first day of classes to care.

Flora lent her more clothes to wear to class, saying she had plenty. This was the first time each of the girls wore almost the same thing; rather than a leotard and tights, as she was accustomed to, they’d worn dresses that felt like nightgowns; they’d make beautiful Clara costumes. The skirts flowed in panels down past her knees, with several layers of cotton. Delicate ribbon held up the empire waist bodice. Her dress was stitched with tiny blue flowers; she’d noticed when they were together that this was likely because of who she’d borrowed from. The different pale pastel dresses all resembled the attire of a class from the 1800s, but each had the slightest difference, depending on where the girl was from. Techna’s had no unnecessary frill or lace, and the seams were clean and streamline. Stella wore pale yellow. Musa had several colors in her skirts, painted to look like watercolor, while Flora and Bloom had a field of flowers embroidered into their skirts.

She discovered that ballet at fairy school was strangely similar to ballet on Earth; there were a few small variations to movements that must exist purely to make the movement  _ more  _ difficult, regardless of aesthetics, but she felt at home with her hand on a barre and going through her plies, tendus, releves, and degages. The instructor leading their class came over several times, watching her. Her flexibility made her stand out; the rest of her classmates were able to reach a comfortable 90 degree angle during their battements and developpes, but hers were trained to stretch far past that. At one point, she made an effort to stop her leg from going quite so high, but the instructor wordlessly grabbed her ankle and pushed it higher as he walked by. He also made a few corrections to her arm and hand placement.

They spent the entire hour at the barre, never venturing into the center or across the floor, to her disappointment; she’d always loved to jump and fly across the floor. Now, she might be learning how to  _ actually  _ fly. 

Professor Wizgiz was a short man, with an extremely high pitched voice and curly hair that rivaled Bloom’s spilling out from under a top hat. He was actually what she’d been expecting when she’d been brought to Alfea; she hadn’t asked if he was considered a “dwarf,” and no one said it in so many words, but he looked almost identical to the description of the mythical creature from her childhood storybooks.

“It's the first class of the year, a year full of great potential and limitless possibilities---and that is what metamorphosis is all about!” he was saying, while Bloom burst with excitement and nerves and the prospect of being in her  _ first  _ class on magic. “Metamorphosis is the art of changing how you appear, and once you master it, you can turn into anything from a rock, to a rock star! Let me give you a little preview. Look at me now, an average elf, right?”

_ So that was the vernacular,  _ she thought as he gestured to himself.

In a flash of hazy light that looked like a mirage, Wizgiz was gone, and Griselda appeared before them. The body and the clothes looked correct, but the goofy grin on what was normally a very cold face seemed off putting and just...wrong.

“Don't worry,” he reassured, voice matching Griselda’s perfectly, “I'm not really the Queen of Detention. The beauty of magic is that you can always go back to being you!”

The mirage was back, and within the blink of an eye, so was professor Wizgiz. It was almost comical seeing each of her classmates heads shift down a fraction, from looking at the adult sized headmistress to the elf who was barely three feet. 

“For now, we'll start with the basics,” he explained, passing mirrors out to each student. “We'll warm up with one of the simplest exercises: changing your hair color. You should all be able to breeze through this one. Look in the mirror, focus your magic, and go. Try to change it! Visualize your new do!”

Each girl in the room was able to do it with ease, Bloom stared at her mirror in frustration. Wasn’t she supposed to say something? No one else seemed to be. All they did was look at the mirror and change it. How could it be that simple, and how stupid must she look for not being able to do it?

Wizgiz walked over to her, looking concerned. “Bloom, it's a little early to fall behind. You have a lot of homework to do!”

She lamented the story to her suitemates that night, after classes were over and they returned to their suite for the evening. The girls had elected to have dinner privately, needing to decompress after the first day of classes--and least, four of them did, and Stella went along with the group. Bloom had done fine in their morning ballet class, and passed through etiquette without making a fool of herself, but charms class was nothing short of humiliating. 

“I was the only one who couldn't do it!” she groaned, picking at her tiny finger foods. Almost everything they ate was a mix of petit fours and tapas spread out to share; rarely did they eat a singular meal on a plate.

“Wizgiz isn’t known for explaining things well, and you are a  _ little  _ bit behind the rest of us,” Stella said in a friendly voice. 

“I’m  _ years  _ behind you guys, Stella.” 

“So, let us help you,” Techna said logically. “We’re all more than qualified to teach you the basics. Probably more so than the teachers, since we remember what it was like to learn all of this.”

“We can start right now!” Stella said excitedly, leaping to grab a mirror from her bedroom and handing it to Bloom. “Have you ever done something crazy, drastic to your hair before?”

“Um, I dyed it black once,” she said, because that’s what you did when you were a redhead and a boy broke up with you.

“So think about  _ that,  _ really visualize what it was like. Smell, color, texture, everything you can think of, really round out the image.”

They all stared at her expectantly while she looked in the mirror, but lost their polite interest when they realized there wasn’t a chance under the sun of Bloom managing to do anything to her hair...she dropped the mirror onto ground and flopped onto the floor in a huff.

“You just have to take it day by day,” Musa said, comfortingly.

“I hope tomorrow is better. It’s bad enough listening to everyone gossip about me, I don’t need to be a complete idiot on top of it.”

“Well, the learning curve for the first semester at our new school is quite steep, you know,” Techna reminded her. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

However, as she moved through each of her classes for the week -- some about diplomacy, some about etiquette, one where she spent over an hour with her shoulders tied to a chair and attempting to drink a cup of tea -- the magical elements continued to place her behind. She struggled with  _ summoning  _ her powers on command, let alone manipulating them strategically the way the other girls were. She grew more and more frustrated each day, nearly snapping at Griselda when she reminded her to see Miss Faragonda in her office for their weekly lunch. She’d forgotten she was meeting with her this afternoon; she had made it a week at fairy school already. 

~~~

“You had to expect that you’d be behind,” Miss Faragonda handed her a cup of tea, settling down in the seat across from her. “An average fairy starts exhibiting magic around age twelve. They begin their magical training not long after. You, Bloom, are eighteen years old. You have only begun to exhibit your powers.”

“I haven’t been able to...do magic--” was that the vernacular? “--since that day in New York. That could have been a fluke,  _ nothing  _ has happened since then and--”

“Bloom, dear,” Miss Faragonda held up her hand. “Powers are very sporadic when they are just beginning to cultivate. They take time to regulate; the junior school is designed for young, developing fairies to attend magical classes when their powers allow. It is a year round education until the girls’ power becomes reliable enough to attend regular classes. Bloom…” Miss Faragonda folded her hands on the table. “I want you to consider accepting a transfer from Alfea College to the junior school, Epsilon Academy.”

“The junior school?” Bloom couldn’t hide the desperation in the voice. “Aren’t I too old?”

“You are older. As I mentioned, powers begin to develop around the age of twelve. The youngest Epsilon will accept is fourteen; it is believed that magical powers require one on one education in the early stages. Many of the families of Alfea alumnae hire private tutors.”

Yet another thing she missed out on.

Faragonda continued on. “The decision is up to you, ultimately. But it might be a better education for you. The facilities at Epsilon are better equipped to handle a developing fairy. By the time girls reach Alfea, they have enough control over their powers to really strengthen and perfect them. You,” she struggled to find the words. “You don’t have the basics Bloom, you can’t build upon what isn’t there.” 

Hearing it outright was harder than she expected. She kept waiting for this perfect magical bubble to burst; here it was. She should be grateful they weren’t sending her back to Earth, but hearing just how far behind she was was daunting and discouraging. “You said I don’t have to. Is there  _ any  _ way I could stay at Alfea?”

“You are a rare situation. Powers developing later in life isn’t unheard of, but a magical being coming from Earth was previously believed to be impossible. I want you to explore all of your options Bloom, and discuss them with myself and your other teachers and friends. We can continue working together, and perhaps you could join Alphea next year, with more experience and control. A year at Epsilon can do a lot for a young fairy.”

She found Flora first, sitting in the courtyard and concentrating on changing the colors of a flower in front of her. The purple tones drained out of it the moment Bloom broke her concentration, and she looked up in frustration for a moment. “Wha--oh, Bloom. Are you okay?” 

She couldn’t tell if her face read like a book, or if Flora was just good at reading people. Launching into her conversation with Faragonda, she was surprised when her roommate’s face grew into one of resolve, rather than sympathy. 

Rather than offering advice, or comfort, the girl started explaining to Bloom what she was attempting to do with the flower; by manipulating the anthocyanins within the flower, she could shift the tones from red to blue. She explained the morphology of the flower, of the four whorls and the function of the petals in pollination and Bloom was taken aback by her botanical knowledge. When she turned to Bloom and told her to think about the chemicals, think about the anatomy, think about what pollinators would be attracted to the flower if it were blue instead of pink, she watched it change from pink to a pale blue; the same color as their bedroom walls.

She stared at it for a moment before turning to Flora, who grinned at her proudly. “Did you do that?”

“Nope! That was all you Bloom. You did it.”

She threw her hands around her friend in glee, ecstatic. “I haven’t been able to do anything like that all week!”

“The teachers are explaining things to you like they would explain things to the girls who graduated from Epsilon. I’m not in the same spot as you, but I’m struggling too. You and I just need to work things out in our own way, the way  _ we’re  _ used to thinking.”

Bloom smiled at the girl. She liked Flora; her tone was always so maternal, and friendly. She kept forgetting Flora was a queen, returning to rule her country when their education was over. Her demeanor seemed too soft, too gentle, too sweet to be in charge of armies and battles and lives. Maybe that was why she was so genuine.

“I really appreciate you helping me,” she said. “This is the first time I actually feel like I know what I’m doing.”

“The other girls will help you too. I’m good with botany charms, but Techna is great with combat and Stella knows a lot about healing. We all really want you to stay,” she said earnestly, and Bloom couldn’t help but be warmed by the generosity. For the first time, she was beginning to feel like she might belong at Alfea.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment! New to AO3, so bear with me.  
Hope to see you back with the next chapter!
> 
> -Hannah


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